Instinctual
by keltieful
Summary: Jim and Spock fight like cats and dogs. Which, considering their Shifts, isn't so surprising. Pike stepping in to sort them out? Jim should have seen that one coming.


**It's been a while, I know. Here is _one_ of my K/S Advent fics. I hope this might make up for my absence. A little bit?**

 **Remember to check out the other K/S Advent (ksadvent . livejournal . com) contributions, they're as amazing as ever.**

 **:D**

* * *

 **Beta** : alienatedalien

 **Series** : AU

 **Warnings** : N/A

* * *

Jim peered up at the moon and felt the shift begin with a rare ease. He managed to only grimace slightly as his joints popped out of their sockets, his bones making much needed room. A shiver worked up his spine as a cool breeze picked up the debris surrounding him. His naked flesh contorted, thick fur forcing its way out of the pores. His jaw cracked as it lengthened, sharp teeth replacing dull human ones. His ears twitched and he spun, the pain of the shift already fading from his fast healing body.

Fully shifted, beta werewolf James Tiberius Kirk made a beautiful sight.

Beautiful and equally deadly.

The size of a large Harley, Jim was a Were in his prime. He was also a Were with a stalker. Or so he'd termed the cat sitting in the branches above him.

Black eyes stared back at him dispassionately before flashing white. Sometimes it made Jim wonder if the rumours about the half-Vulcan's telepathy were true. Either that, or he just seriously knew how to piss Jim off, regardless of their forms.

Jim didn't generally think of himself as a close minded bastard. A bastard, sure. He was a bit of a dick. But so were most young people in their own way, shape or form. Really though, Jim had always prided himself on his ability to see past gender, race, sexuality, you name it. Jim was a people person. He liked people.

But not one particular cat, it would seem. Pike's wife was a lioness and getting along with her was sometimes easier than anyone else he knew in San Fran. Including his old school peers.

And were Jim in his human form, he'd probably hit his head against his desk -again- and promise himself not to glare at the cat when they passed each other in the halls tomorrow. At least keep the growling below human hearing. The amount of cat and dog jokes going around campus was just embarrassing.

It certainly didn't help that said cat was a professor. And brilliant. And gorgeous. And refined. And dignified. And- he should really stop quoting Uhura. Because those were certainly all her words.

Fucking cat.

Although cat probably wasn't the term most people would use. Maybe beast-of-nightmares.

Either way, even in his wolf form, Jim wouldn't take him on in a fight. He wasn't going to stupidly attack someone who could ruin his career. And boy, could the ambassador's son pull strings. He'd gone as far as getting him kicked out of his advanced linguistics classes only two weeks into the semester. Jim loved languages. He liked learning useful skills. But no, the cat had to ruin it for him.

Jim decided the best thing to do was ignore Spock as much as possible. Even though he kind of wanted to jump and snap at that lazily swinging tail.

Instead Jim turned and made his way deeper into the undergrowth. He'd chosen this particular spot for his full moon escapades because it was close to campus and too small for any of the packs in the area to find worthwhile. He just hadn't factored in Spock's need for a midnight slink. Hopefully he could spend the rest of the evening alone.

* * *

"You don't get it Bones! It's driving me crazy." Jim shouted, cheeks flushed and voice bordering on maniacal. "He left scent trails everywhere. I couldn't find a single place to just sit and rest. I kept wandering off down them and then remembering what I was doing."

Jim threw his hand into the air in exasperation. Dark circles stretched under dull blue eyes. With a sigh, Jim leaned back against the white walls of Bones' office.

"And on campus it's the same thing. I can't go anywhere without him popping up." Jim paused, biting his lip, "Uhura came up to me this morning. She said that I need to sort out my shit with him. We've been friends forever. Before that cat even came to this planet."

"You feel like she's choosing him over you, kid?" Bones asked. Sometimes you had to patient with Jim. Sometimes you had to push. But if you tried to interfere too early, Jim just dug in his heels. Sometimes, McCoy thought, just for the sake of it.

At the moment though, he just looked tired and lonely.

For two years, almost the entire length of their friendship, Bones had been trying to acclimatise Jim to the thought of joining a Pack. With Winona in deep space and Sam's family on some colony out in god knows, Jim's birth Pack just wasn't there the way a young wolf needed them to be.

And boy did Jim need them.

Wolves weren't meant to be alone. The bond between members helped regulate the release of chemicals in the brain. The science behind it was still fairly new, shifter species only stepped out of the shadows in the last 35 years. But it was something the Federation, and Starfleet particularly, were keen to uncover. Bones happened to be one of the few doctors specialised in treating shifters. A passion which started when his own daughter was born a werewolf.

Jo was only two now but in another three years she'd be shipped off to the closest Were Academy - a precaution taken to protect non-shifter children. Once there she, as a student without a birth Pack, would be sorted into an adoptive Pack for her schooling years. Once finished, she could choose to become a fully initiated member or go and find her own Pack.

It was children like Jim who the system messed with the most.

He'd been sent to the Were Academy in Michigan, close enough to home that law didn't require he be taken under the wing of a local Alpha. Which messed with the kid's self-esteem more than anyone knew. His bond to his mother was stretched too thin to be of real comfort and he was excluded by other children because he wasn't Pack.

As a result, neither Jim nor Bones were sure if he even could bond with a new Alpha. As time went on it looked less and less likely. And it certainly didn't help that none of the Packs in San Fran would extend an official welcome. Without one, Jim was forced to stay out of Pack boundaries. Which basically meant he could be at the academy or in the small park just down the bay or the transport centre. All neutral zone for visiting shifters, non-Human species - for their own safety and peace of mind, of course.

"Bones, you and Uhura are the closest thing I have to Pack. I can't lose her." Jim mumbled and McCoy's heart just about melted. For a genius, Jim sure was dense. But sweet.

Before Bones could answer Jim's latest dose of anxiety, the werewolf's head snapped up. His eyes flashed gold as he glared at the door and Bones knew exactly what, or rather who, was walking down the hall. Dear lords that boy had a one track mind. No wonder there weren't any prey animal shifters.

The door slid open and Commander Spock, looking as blank as ever, walked though. Jim was off the counter and on his feet immediately. The hobgoblin only raised an eyebrow at the aggressive display. Luckily.

McCoy was, once again, surprised that Jim hadn't already gotten an official reprimand for his behaviour. The kid clearly wasn't mentally stable in the walking computer's presence. He needed a god darned Alpha to pull his head in and teach him how to play with the other kids. Pike tried, Number One tried, Winona called whenever she could but nothing was getting through.

"Captain Pike requests your presence in his office, cadet Kirk." Spock said. No inflection. Nothing. And yet, from Jim's descriptions, McCoy's own observations and research into various werecat species, Spock had to have some sort of emotions going on somewhere in there.

McCoy shuddered. The Vulcan mind was a scary place. He didn't even want to know.

But, as a cat, Spock should have instincts which directly contradicted his Vulcan nature. Cats were playful for one thing. And Bones couldn't even imagine Spock pouncing around or play hunting. Not even a roughly Spock-ish child.

If one wanted to make themselves feel better about their own lot in life, they had only imagine themselves as Spock's mother.

* * *

Spock was frustrated. It was, unfortunately not a particularly uncommon emotion for him to struggle with. Usually his ire was directed at himself, at his research, or his students. Never before had he felt it because of Captain Pike.

Spock held the Captain in the highest respects. He was, after all, his mentor. There was no place in San Francisco which felt more like home than Pike's own house. Never had he felt more comfortable than when he was with Pike and his wife.

They were safety and security and home and love. Everything Spock missed about his mother.

When Pike learnt about his thirst for knowledge, he'd encouraged it. When he found out about his banishment, he'd opened his home. When he'd seen Spock's shame, he only nurtured it. He offered training with Number One to gain the control Spock was sorely missing. It was a mutually beneficial situation. She needed a Pride, a cub. He needed a mother, someone to teach him about being a Were.

There were no shifters on Vulcan. So far, the gene seemed to only be found on Terra. It was unique to the planet. That Amanda Grayson carried the gene was unexpected but not totally surprising. It was a difficult thing to pinpoint. Most of the research said it was recessive. Then there was Spock.

It was fortunate that Vulcans didn't feel surprised. Certainly not when, at aged seven, they suddenly sprouted claws and fangs. Or when their bones healed in seconds without any form of medical attention. And seven year old, outcast Vulcan's certainly didn't cry into their sehlat's fur after their first excruciatingly painful transformation. The same sehlat who taught him how to run in his other body. How to prowl and climb and make a successful kill.

Spock might not be the best of Vulcans but he was an excellent feline. Unfortunately being a Were wasn't as easy as being one or the other. You had to be both. Person and animal. And that's where Spock failed most.

He took to shifting like a le'matya to a carcass. The physical came easily. Shifts didn't even hurt after the first few times. But keeping the sane part of his mind, the Spock part, was difficult.

He often found himself acting out of character. Which Number One thought was cute. But Spock wasn't so impressed. Especially when he woke up to memories of spending whole nights playing with a cadet.

Spock wasn't so sure that he would categorise sending someone insane as playing but Number One assured him that's what it was. Pike muttered something about all cats being assholes and gave him a pat of the back as he passed out of the kitchen.

Which was part of the reason that Spock was currently frustrated.

Because Pike acted like it was normal, expected behaviour at home and then called him to his office for punishment only hours later. Apparently, since he and the werewolf were 'such great friends' they would make perfect ambassadors for the Starfleet winter solstice party.

Spock didn't react. He didn't mention his time sensitive experiments. Or that he had offered to help the Were research team over the Terran holidays. He didn't flinch at the mention of his father's position. He didn't even breathe.

"Get out of here and bring me Kirk. Between the two of you, I'm going grey." Pike said, shooing him off with his hands.

He passed few people on campus as he made his way to the medical centre. Kirk's timetable said he was in the computer labs. Spock's sixth sense when it came to Kirk said he was with Doctor McCoy.

James Kirk was an itch under Spock's skin. A taste right on the tip of his tongue. He was an oddity in Spock's carefully controlled world. The cadet was smart and warm. Beautiful and funny and dedicated. He was everything one would want in a mate and yet he spent all his shifts alone.

Then again, Spock thought as he finally picked up the werewolf's scent, he did smell.

He strode down the halls with an easy grace and confidence. Being the only Vulcan faculty member had its upsides. Never being questioned was just one of them.

From the lift Spock could already hear Kirk's voice. He certainly was loud. Spock's temples began to throb as a headache formed behind his eyes. When M'Benga came back from Vulcan, Spock would book himself an appointment. He'd never heard of a single person being the cause of almost constant headaches.

Spock reached out and swiped his card through the scanner. The system took a moment to recognise his ID before the door opened.

Kirk was growling again, having situated himself halfway between Spock and Doctor McCoy. He was clearly protecting the other man. Which was both rude and hurtful. Number One's lessons about mates flashed back through his mind. Perhaps this was cadet Kirk's way of proving himself to McCoy?

The pain spiked and Spock kept his hands firmly behind his back. There was no reason to let the other shifter know he'd sparked a response. Kirk was constantly harassing him, looking for flaws and weak spots. Giving in would be like proving that Stonn and his cronies were right about him.

Instead of grabbing Kirk's shirt and throwing him down the lift well, Spock took a breath, bottled his emotions and repeated the main gist of what he'd been told to do. And if it came out a bit more flat than usual, sue him.

* * *

Jim grabbed the ice blue bowtie and wrestled it into place. For all the 'Winter Holiday' cheer going on around him, Jim was stuck in a bit of a funk. It didn't help that the full moon was only days away. Or that Uhura kept her word and wasn't having anything to do with him. Or that Pike stubbornly insisted that both he and Spock had to attend the party. They had to mingle and interact with important guests. Together.

Apparently Pike had some weird idea that Spock and he were similar. Which was totally ridiculous. They didn't have a single thing in common.

He came from a splintered Pack. Spock was an upper crust Vulcan snob. He grew up alone; alienated by his own species. Spock grew up with Amanda Grayson as a mother. According to Winona, Amanda was one of the nicest people she'd ever had the pleasure of working with. As a Vulcan, the emotionless bastard probably didn't even appreciate what he had.

There was no common ground between them.

But Pike didn't listen to any of that. He just shook his head and reminded Jim to be there at 6pm.

"Come on kid, it's a quarter to." Bones called, walking into the room looking impeccable. The older man really cleaned up. If only he was Jim's type. Life would be so much easier. At the very least he wouldn't be having increasingly disturbing dreams –which may or may not feature hate-sex with a certain Vulcan- every time he tried to get a moments rest.

Hopefully the night couldn't be much worse than Jim was imagining. He had been accused of being a 'drama queen' more than once in his life. And maybe driving a car off a cliff was a bit too far.

Jim shuffled out of the oppressive atmosphere and into the cool night air. The party actually wasn't that bad. Most of the guests were enjoying the holiday spirit and a lot of the diplomatic bullshit Jim had been expecting was pleasantly missing. There had been a bit of unease between the other shifters but, surprisingly, Spock had been the one to sort it out.

Jim wasn't really sure what he'd done to scare the Diamond Heights Alpha. But seeing the asshole cower before a prim and proper Vulcan had been awesome. It almost made Jim regret all the awful things he'd ever thought about Spock. Almost.

The fact that Spock also happened to look ridiculously amazing had no sway on Jim's slight change of perspective. None at all. It couldn't. Not when the Vulcan always looked so impeccable.

Jim lent back against the railing and closed his eyes. He released a deep breath and let the tension just seep out of his muscles. The noise from inside was muted and Jim couldn't help rubbing at his temples. A sudden movement from his left made Jim jump.

Spock seemingly materialised out of the shadows.

"Holy fuck." Jim spat, a hand gripping at his chest. "Dear lords, do you just creep around and watch people?"

"I assumed, with your enhanced senses that you would have picked up my presence." Spock replied head tilted in what Jim could only guess was curiosity. "I found the celebrations uncomfortable."

Jim transferred his weight onto his arms and hoisted himself up onto the ledge. He had noticed the discomfort lining the Vulcan's shoulders, the way Spock seemed to hold himself tighter. It had his hackles raised instinctively. Which was one of the many reasons Jim hadn't ratted the Vulcan out to Pike as soon as he'd slipped away.

"Because there's too many people?" Jim asked, sarcastic "Too much merriment for you, Professor?"

Spock just raised an eyebrow. Clearly he wasn't about to rise to Jim's bait. Maybe if he did, Jim could finally get rid of the itch under his skin.

Jim watched Spock from the corner of his eye. The Vulcan certainly was more relaxed. And something in Jim relaxed at that. It didn't make much sense to him but that was life. And it wasn't like Jim was the most normal of people. Or shifters. He was different and weird and maybe a little bit broken.

"Why didn't your local Alpha defend you?" Spock asked softly, his tone so quiet that Jim barely heard. The average Human certainly would have missed it.

Jim took a moment to think; weigh his words. The average person, someone who wasn't intimately aware of Were communities, wouldn't understand his problem. Other students simply joined a local Pack. Which wasn't an option for Jim. He'd tried. He really had. But none of the Alphas had felt right. He _couldn't_ bond with any of the four San Francisco Alphas.

"I don't have an Alpha." Jim murmured, shoulders hunching forward in an attempt to make himself smaller. "I can't bond." He couldn't even chance a glance over to see Spock's reaction. He didn't need to see the judgement in those deep brown eyes.

He'd seen it the day his mother had come to pick him up from school. When she realised their bond was barely there. It was the same thing he'd gotten from the principal of the school when Winona had torn him apart for 'ruining' her kid. Or, when Pike had been informed that Jim couldn't bond with the local Alphas. Or, when Bones realised why Jim was always so alone; though he hadn't told him the entire truth.

"And this is something which causes you emotional turmoil?" Spock asked, thoughtful. "On Vulcan, I experienced something similar."

For once, Jim had no reply. He let the silence settled between them as they listened to the chatter and music from inside. The peaceful ambiance surprised Jim. For as long as he'd known Spock, they'd been at each other's throats. Everything Spock did was perfect and just rubbed Jim the wrong way.

Maybe he should have given Pike more credit.

"You are aware that Vulcans are touch telepaths." Spock finally said, holding his left hand out to Jim, "May I?"

"I- yeah. Okay." Jim stuttered, breath tight in his chest. Nerves fluttered and Jim tried to keep everything together. He didn't know much about Vulcan telepathy but he really hoped it wasn't too different to a Pack bond.

Spock slotted his hand against Jim's face, long fingers smoothing over his skin. Tingles ran up and down Jim's spine, catching Jim's breath.

"My mind to your mind," Spock murmured, ' _my thoughts to your thoughts_.'

* * *

The light of the full moon broke through the leaves and Jim sighed into its embrace. Joints popped out of their sockets as his body rearranged itself into something different. Something infinitely more deadly.

Goosebumps broke out across his skin as the first snow of the season finally fell. Jim wasn't sure if the freezing temperatures helped make the shift easier or hindered it. Standing in the nude, in snow, sucked. Either way, he wasn't cold for long as thick winter fur grew through the enlarged pores of his skin.

He cracked his neck, jaw moving as his bones dislocated, broke and rearranged themselves. There was the slightest crunch behind him and Jim spun, jaws automatically snapping at the tail dangling just out of reach.

Spock sat on the thick branch above him, tail lazily swinging left and right. Jim felt the growl rise in his throat, deep and playful. The sound made Spock's silky black ears perk upright. He shifted his shoulders, rolling them before jumping down from his elevated position.

Jim snorted as Spock's tail ran under his nose before the large cat took off into the gathering darkness. Jim taking off after him immediately.

They raced through the undergrowth, branches occasionally catching in Jim's coat. Eventually Spock turned back and pounced on him, sending them crashing onto the soft dirt by the pond.

Spock huffed a breath against Jim's face, a dark flash of amusement flaring across their bond. The panther leaned forward and brushed his cheeks along Jim's snout and across his neck, effectively scent marking him. Jim relaxed into the touch. If he were Human, he would run his fingers through Spock's thick fur.

Instead he settled for whining and tilting his head back, exposing his throat. Spock bumped their noses before he settled by Jim's side, flank to flank, and they curled together under the lightly falling snow. Jim knew that before long, they'd have to make their way back to the academy and spend the night camped out on the couch.

But for now, Jim was perfectly happy, exactly where he was.


End file.
